Prisoners in the Darkness
by Tsuki-Moon
Summary: The Gundam pilots are being held prisoner within OZ--- but sometimes the enemy isn't the only captor... (angst/yoai)


**Note: _Um… I don't know what to say about this fic. I've been in an angysty mood and a rather citrusy mood, and this is sort of a combination of the two. Yoai warning everyone!!! Oh, and Bamboo? Be happy 'cause I threw in a paragraph of your favorite couple (yes, only a paragraph. Sorry.)!!! ^-^ I don't own Gundam Wing, people. However, I think I should, don't you? Hahaha… Naw, I'd end up with the most bizarre story lines. Besides, the poor guys would be all tuckered out because of their constant… um…*cough* never mind. Well, anyway, enjoy!_**

**_Eternally and Always, Tsuki_**

**_ _**

**_Prisoners in the Dark_**

By Tsuki-Moon

Trowa looked at the steel door coolly, watching as the other soldiers tapped in the code and held their guns ready. The door swished open with a sorrowful sounding sigh and Trowa stepped inside the dark cell. "Number One." He demanded flatly. Duo was in a corner, grumbling something less than kind as Heero stood up. The Perfect Soldier looked up and their eyes met. Trowa's eyes were cold, as they always were these days, and entirely unreadable. _That's because I have nothing to say, Trowa thought. __He can't read a blank page. _

Heero left with the guards without struggle, but the tension was still thick as they carted him off for another test. 

*****

"It's incredible." The scientist sighed, "These readings are almost impossible."

"Not for a Gundam pilot." Trowa whispered, but the Captain and the scientist couldn't hear him. Good. It was better that way. Finally, after another soft humming of worn engines and clicks of Heero's fingers pressing trigger buttons, the Captain turned to Trowa.

"We're done for today, Lieutenant."

Trowa nodded. "That's enough, Number One." Heero's hands froze immediately and he stood up. Trowa started up the ladder that led to the OZ-MS cockpit.

"Do not forget to give him the tranquilizer, Lieutenant." The Captain muttered, "An engineer forgot and we had to struggle with that braided one." Trowa froze. _Shit! He had forgotten the pills; they were sitting on his desk. He cursed quietly, but pretended like he was nodding to the Captain. Hell, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. _

Heero held out his right hand to receive the daily pills, but when Trowa put his hand over his, there was nothing but air. "I forgot them," Trowa whispered, "Just play along and don't mess around." Heero nodded and pretended to swallow a small handful of caplets. 

The Captain watched as the Gundam pilot swooned just slightly, like he always did when the drugs kicked in, and didn't struggle as Lieutenant Barton shut the restraints onto his wrists. Then, as always, the young soldier nodded to his superiors and left, holding the traitorous pilot at gunpoint. Not that he would need the gun; the sedatives were too strong for the pilot to fight against one of OZ's top soldiers. The Captain nodded to himself as the two figures slipped out the door. "You know," he said to the scientist, "it's amazing how smooth everything goes around here. Nothing ever changes."

"No," the scientist agreed, "nothing ever does. Nothing ever happens." The two men stood in silence, imagining silently all that could happen and never did--- or so they thought.

*****

They walked down the hall, passing only a few soldiers here and there. Heero calculated slowly, knowing that he'd have only one chance to get it right. _Here…_

Trowa entered the code for the storage room, one of the many rooms that he had to pass through to get to the prison-section quickly. True, there were the round about ways that most people took, but going through rooms had always seemed more efficient, and more interesting. He and Heero stepped inside the cluttered room, the door swishing shut behind them. Trowa started to walk forward -then stopped- hearing the soft 'clack' behind him. He swiveled on his heels quickly, trying to block Heero's blunt strike to his head. 

Heero felt the hot blood plash lightly onto his hands after his large metal cuffs collided with Trowa's temple. Trowa fell to the floor, but immediately straightened up again. By then, Heero had grabbed Trowa's gun from its holster and was pointing it at him dangerously. "Hmph." Trowa smirked, as if the irony of the entire situation were incredibly amusing. Heero narrowed his eyes and clicked off the safety latch to let Trowa know how serious he really was. Trowa straightened up more on his knees so that the gun was pointed right at the tip of his nose. "Are you planning on shooting me, Heero? Or are you just pointing it at me for fun?" Heero's eyes narrowed and he clenched the gun harder. Trowa let out a cold chuckled and leaned forward.

Trowa's elegant lips wrapped themselves around the gun barrel, kissing and drawing the cold metal into his mouth as if it were some sort of long-lost lover. His green eyes were shut, as if he were truly getting pleasure out of sucking the harsh, frigid metal. Heero bit his bottom lip slightly, the image in front of him catching him entirely off guard. Trowa let out a soft sigh and continued licking and pulling at the gun. Heero didn't see how Trowa _could possibly be enjoying this. He knew the taste of a gun; he had put the barrel of one in his mouth thinking it would be better than self-destruction and had immediately decided against it because of the dead taste and ashen scent. Trowa's eyes opened -two luscious orbs of green- and pulled back, his tongue curving so that he still held contact with the gun until the last second. "Mmmmm…" he sighed, "Are you going to pull the trigger or not, Heero?" Heero didn't answer. "Hmm?" Trowa kissed the barrel again and Heero found himself getting incredibly, almost painfully, hard. There was something agonizingly and amazingly erotic about Trowa sucking the cold weapon. Trowa smirked when he saw the effect he was having on the Perfect Soldier. "This is the last chance I'm giving you to escape, Heero." Trowa whispered. Heero still didn't respond. Trowa leaned forward again, kissing the gun and moving upward, over Heero's fingers, around his wrist, over his restraints, up his arm. Heero shuttered at Trowa's hot, burning kisses. Trowa stood up now, kissing Heero's neck and the tender spot behind his ear. Heero groaned softly and felt the gun slip out of his grip. He heard the weapon clatter to the floor, but the sound was distant. It was as if nothing really existed right now except Trowa and his mouth. "Why didn't you shoot me, Heero?" Trowa whispered as nibbled a bit on the boy's earlobe. Heero groaned. "Hmmm?"_

"I- I---" Heero shoot his head with a broken sigh. His breath was shattered and uneven now, trickles of sweat already beading on his brow. Trowa frowned.

"Well?"

"Trowa…"

"What." Trowa stepped back slightly and Heero's skin cried out, wanting the warm arms again and the hot lips. It was cold in the storage room without them. "Why didn't you just pull the trigger? It wouldn't have taken much."

"You wouldn't have been able to complete your mission." Heero whispered flatly. He had regained a fraction of the composer that he thought he had lost. 

"What mission?" Trowa snorted. "My Gundam mission or that damn mission of life? Hmm. I wish I could end them both." Trowa picked up the gun from the floor and caressed the cool metal with the tips of his fingers. "My life is worthless, Heero. You should have just escaped while I gave you the chance." Trowa smirked slightly and set down the gun again.

Heero gasped as Trowa shot forward, shoving him to the ground and covering his neck and mouth with fiery saliva. Heero groaned and tried to pull Trowa closer, their mouths fusing together like two pieces of a puzzle. A hot, organic, wet puzzle…

Trowa pushed Heero's green tanktop up as far as he could and began devouring and kissing the skin there. Trowa's mouth slipped over one of Heero's defenseless nipples, nipping it slightly. Heero groaned loudly. "Nnnnn… do that again." Heero sighed. "But about three times as hard." Trowa chuckled, happy to oblige. 

Soon, an OZ-uniform, socks, shoes, and spandex lay on the floor among the storage items, entirely forgotten. Nearby, two figures huddled on the cold ground. One had his arms around the other, his face buried in the other's soft, green shirt. The second one sighed and kissed the top of the others head. He wanted to cuddle the young person clinging to his shirt, but he couldn't move his arms because of the thick restraints on his wrists. All he could offer was his understanding. He knew how frightening the darkness was, and how lonely life was, and what a gun felt like inside his mouth. But, still, there was an unpassable gap between them, even as they lay, clutching each other on the floor. The gap of darkness knew that the one soldier liked the taste of cold metal and liked the thought of death. The other one didn't fear it, but he certainly didn't like it. Heero sighed and ran his fingers over Trowa's arm. The cuts and scars there felt soft and tender. "I don't want your pity." The voice said, muffled against the cotton of his shirt and his stomach.

"I'm not giving you any." Heero stated, "I know you can take care of yourself." Heero kissed Trowa's sweat-drenched hair again. "Just be careful of the darkness, okay? OZ isn't our only enemy."

"I know…" Trowa sighed and hugged Heero tighter. "But the darkness attacks me in the worst way possible. She eats away at me, Heero. Sometimes it seems like the only way I can escape her is to embrace her entirely."

"Hn." Heero wrapped his legs around Trowa's waist and kissed him on the lips tenderly. "Just embrace me instead."

Trowa sighed and brushed Heero's dark bangs away from his crystal blue eyes. "Who's the prisoner here and who's the captor anyway, Heero? You're the one in restraints and yet you seem to have more control than I do."

"We're _both prisoners, Trowa." _

Trowa nodded, a small tear dripping down his cheek. Heero kissed it away. Their breathing became harder again, both of them painfully aware of the others arousal. The two prisoners comforted each other again, this time without any words.

*****

The prison door shut behind Heero, shutting him away once again.

"Hey, Hee-chan." Duo smirked. "You were gone for awhile. What happened? Did they change the tests?"

"No." Heero sighed. "Everything's the same." He pushed past Duo, storming over to his corner of the cell. Duo frowned. Heero was damp with sweat and Duo could smell sex all over him. He sighed and shook his head.

"What's wrong, onna?" Wufei asked with only minimal interest.

"Hmmm… nothing."

"Jealous?" Duo started and looked over at the Chinese boy.

"Is it obvious?"

"Yes. But I still don't think Yuy noticed. He's too busy brooding in the darkness." Wufei sat down beside Duo and grunted. "But I guess that's all there is to do when you're a prisoner."

"Yeah." Duo sighed. "I guess so…" he leaned his head on Wufei's shoulder and, thankfully, the cool Asian pilot didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned his head on the top of the braided boy's, as well, both of them thankful for the other's presence.

Before too long, the three pilots in the prison had fallen asleep. One hugged his knees to his chest, silently thinking of another just like him, but even more lost in the darkness. The other two clung to each other the best they could with shackles on, clinging emotionally if nothing more. But there was one more prisoner that wasn't in a cell. He was awake, sitting on his soft bed, caressing a cold, metal gun in his hands. He brought the weapon to his mouth and kissed it. It tasted bitter. He sighed and set the gun down on his desk, next to the small pills that he had forgotten that morning. Next to the bloody razor… Trowa sighed and watched as blood still trickled from his wrists. He knew he wouldn't die from the new gash; he would have had to slice deeper for that, but it was enough to push away the darkness. In fact, for a moment, the darkness seemed to take the shackles away from his heart. But, deep down, he knew he was just as much a prisoner as the three sleeping pilots. Perhaps even more so…

He lay down on his bed, not caring if the blood stained the sheets, and slept. It was dark.

# The End


End file.
